


Pucks Vs. Pastries

by Kris123123123



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluffy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7417645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kris123123123/pseuds/Kris123123123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The students are gossiping about how the new Home Ec teacher can beat Jack Zimmermann in a hockey game. Jack Zimmermann has a competitive gene that can't let the student body be right, so he sets up a fundraising event to prove to everyone once and for all that ERIC BITTLE CANNOT BEAT HIM IN A HOCKEY MATCH!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pucks Vs. Pastries

**Author's Note:**

> It's a high school AU! Enjoy. I might write more to this because honestly, this is one of the things I've enjoyed writing so much. It was really fun and I really enjoyed this one, even though I wish I had the patience to make it a little longer. 
> 
> So enjoy, Jack Zimmermann as a history professor and Eric Bittle as a Home Ec teacher :)

Jack loved his job as one of Samwell High school’s history teachers. He loved working with the kids. They all seemed to really love him as well, even if he was notoriously known as one of the strictest and most difficult teachers in the whole school. Most of the students viewed him as tough, but fair, and they all knew he would drop anything to help a student who asked politely even though he looked terribly intense 90% of the time. The fact that Samwell’s hockey team had been ranked number one in the nation every year since he started coaching was just an added bonus.

He sat in the teacher’s lounge during his lunch break, thinking of some questions for the test he was going to give on Tuesday. He needed to be able to get the kids thinking about history and it’s importance, while also weeding out the students who cared from the students who didn’t. He bit into his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, thinking while he chewed.

“I saw him Lardo! He’s tiny! Jack here could probably dead lift him, easily.” Jack looked up from his notebook to see two of his co workers walking towards him, having a heated discussion about him apparently. Shitty (or Mr. Knight as the kids called him) was passionate about gender studies and politics. He was the speech and debate coach at the high school and the kids, especially the seniors, loved him. He was basically a giant kid himself but also had a lot of wisdom to share with seniors who were having crises about graduation and college. Larissa Duan, or Lardo as Shitty affectionately called her, was one of the most talented artists Jack knew. She was one of the teachers in the art department. She also helped out with the theater productions fairly often. The students loved her casual demeanor and her don’t-take-no-shit-attitude.

The two sat down across from Jack, nodding in lieu of greeting, and continued their discussion as if Jack wasn’t sitting there at all.

“I don’t know, Shitty. He looks pretty fit, even though he’s really tiny. He might surprise you. He’s probably a tiny ball of fire and could hold his own.” Jack looked at them curiously. Shitty had his hair up in what their students called a “man-bun” and some of his hair was coming loose from the passion of his argument. Lardo looked bored, as though she had been having this discussion for way too long.

“Look all I’m saying is our canadian-hockey-god Jack has been playing hockey since he was like 2 weeks old. His dad is Bad Bob for heaven’s sake! Do you really think that little of Jacky here?” Shitty replied, his hands moving rapidly as he spoke.

Jack cleared his throat. “What are you guys talking about, eh?”

Shitty turned towards him then and smiled. Jack had a feeling that he was not going to like where this was going.

“Some of the students have this crazy idea that the new Home Ec. Teacher, Eric Bittle, could totally kick Jack Zimmermann’s ass at a game of hockey.”

Jack felt himself smile. Shitty was right, Jack had been playing hockey since he was a baby. The only reason he didn’t go professional was a mishap leading him to overdose during the year he was supposed to be drafted. Most NHL teams didn’t want that kind of publicity and Jack, though a little disappointed, didn’t blame them. So he did the next best thing and became a teacher away from the public eye and a coach to their high school hockey team.

“Excuse me, but my team has been nationally ranked for five years! There’s no way.”

“That’s what I told her, dude. Lardo just won’t listen.”

“I saw him on the ice, Jack. He’s quick and speedy. He certainly won’t go down without a fight.”

Jack and Shitty made eye contact then and both began laughing.

“No chance, Lards. Jack here is just too good.” They finished their lunches while chatting, discussing the possibility of someone beating Jack Zimmermann in a game of hockey. Eventually the topic changed and by the time Jack left for his next class, Shitty and Lardo were discussing some of the other rumors going around the school, like who the principal was sleeping with and if Holtzy and Ransom were going to kill all the students during physical education.

He was thinking about this Bittle guy on the way back to his classroom. The guy must be pretty tough if the students thought he could compete with Jack Zimmermann. He decided to forget about it. He hadn’t even met the guy yet and it was nothing to be stressed about.

The students were filling into his 1 O’Clock class and were preparing for a rough lecture about the American Civil war. Jack was writing the homework assignments on the board when he heard a quiet knock on the door. He turned and saw a short blonde student staring at him, leaning against the doorframe as if he owned it. Jack tried to recall if he had a new transfer student, but couldn’t remember. He certainly had never seen this student before, he knew all of his students’ names and faces at the very least. While Jack was wracking his brain about the possibility of missing an important email about a transfer student, the blonde started speaking in a slow southern drawl.

“Heard there’s a rumor going around about us.” Jack’s heart started to race. He could not lose his job over an obviously false rumor about him and a student. Telling himself to breathe calmly, he watched as the blonde walked towards him. He had never seen this kid before, he would have certainly remembered that accent.

As the ‘kid’ stepped forward, Jack realized that he was older than initially believed. He breathed a sigh of relief. At least rumors spreading about him and an adult weren’t illegal and wouldn’t get him fired.

“Eric Bittle, home economics.” The short blonde reached out a hand. Suddenly Jack wasn’t anxious, he was angry. This is the guy that the whole school, including his loyal and faithful friend Lardo, thinks can take him on in a hockey game? The guy was 5’5” at best and Jack was a whole head taller than him. Jack was also wider and more defined. He still worked out every day and even played with the students during practice. This guy looked like he couldn’t handle a spider in the room, let alone a check into the boards.

Jack took the proffered hand, trying to be civil in front of his students, all of whom were staring at the exchange with wide eyes.

“You’re the new teacher that everyone thinks can beat me, eh?” The other man just smiled at him.

“Oh goodness.” He replied, blushing, “it’s cause I told ‘em that I played hockey in college. Sorry about that. I wasn’t tryin’ ta cause all this fuss.

The bell had rung by now and class was starting.

“Bittle,” Jack said, accidentally using his ‘coach’s voice’, “If you want to beat me, I’d recommend that you eat more protein.”

The blonde looked down at his feet and mumbled a response that Jack couldn’t quite hear. Jack could tell he was embarrassed. He felt guilty, but before he could say anything Eric Bittle walked out of the classroom without another word.

He turned towards his students who were all watching him apprehensively. Finally, Tony, one of the students in the back of the class spoke up after clearing his throat.

“That was harsh, Mr. Z.”

Jack just looked at them and pretended to smile.

“Guys, he’s played hockey, eh. I’m sure he has heard worse than that. Now time to get going. We have a test on Tuesday and yes, this material will be on it.”

As Jack continued the lecture he realized that he wasn’t into it. He still felt pretty bad about insulting Eric Bittle, and he could tell his students had noticed. Jack released his students five minutes early, an unprecedented move from Strict Mr. Zimmermann. He wandered down to the home economics class, an easy feat if he just followed his nose. He was very happy his class was not closer since he would easily gain five pounds a week if he hung out here more than necessary.

He was going to attempt to apologize for being rude earlier and waited patiently while Eric finished up his teaching. He leaned against the door just as the blonde had earlier, listening to the smaller man ramble excitedly about their homework assignment. Who knew Home Ec kids had homework?

Eric only looked at the doorway when the bell rang. His hand flew to his heart as his eyes landed on Jack’s casual frame. This was ridiculous. This man seriously could not be the guy everyone thought could compete with Jack Zimmermann. He had come to apologize, but he felt himself getting angry again. He knew he was going to say something stupid if he opened his mouth, so he just stood there and plastered on that fake smile.

“Mr. Zimmermann, you scared me! Lord!”

Jack watched as Bittle began to cut into a pie that was sitting on his desk and his stomach growled. Bittle giggled.

“It’s maple sugar crusted apple pie.” Bittle said, “would you like a piece?”

Jack tried to politely decline but was surprised by Eric’s sudden change in demeanor. 

“Jack Zimmermann! You do not insult me, then come into my classroom, unannounced, scare me half to death and then refuse to eat my pie! It’s incredibly rude!” Jack was taken aback. He wasn’t going to try to make a scene in front of the students, but now he was at a loss for words. He quietly grabbed the pie out of the smaller man’s hands, refusing to make eye contact. He held the slice for a moment, looking at it, but not eating.

Eric looked at him expectantly after a moment of silence between the two of them.

“Well, I’m assumin’ you came here for a reason?”

Jack continued to look down at his slice of pie, his perfectly styled brown hair falling into his face. He was at a loss for words. Just who was this Eric Bittle? He was incredibly kind and if he were to believe all the hype, could best Jack in a game of hockey. Belatedly, Jack realized that he hadn’t spoken again and was standing next to Bittle, eying his pie as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“Jack my class is startin’ and I’m sure you have a class of your own that ya need to get back to.”

“Right.” Jack said finally, “Thanks for the pie.” As Jack wandered back to his classroom, he realized that he never officially apologized for his behavior before. He hoped that this slice of pie was a peace offering and decided to accept it as such. When he stepped inside his classroom, uneaten pie in hand, he was met with 20 sets of eyes staring at him in shock. Jack was five minutes late and he never started class late. He set the pie down on his desk and began his lecture as if he wasn’t dealing with the guilt and anxiety from talking to the man down the hall. He would deal with that later.

His last class of the day had finished, but he still had an hour before hockey practice. He usually used this time to grade some papers and give himself 20 minutes of ice time by himself while the hockey team got ready for practice.

He sat at his desk, staring at his uneaten slice of pie. Normally, he didn’t eat sweets, but his mouth had been watering all day from the smell of it. One bite couldn’t hurt, he told himself.

He bit into a piece and huffed out a quiet ‘Bittle’ as the taste hit his tongue. It was quite possibly the best pie he had ever tasted. 

There was no way this scrawny, pie-baking, and all-around adorable man could beat him at a game of hockey.

Suddenly Jack had an idea that would excite the students for the first hockey game, raise some money for the Home Ec department, show Eric how sorry he was, and quite possibly settle this debate once and for all.

 

\------------------------  _X_  ------------------------

Jack had just finished morning practice with the team and walked into his classroom to see Shitty sitting on his desk.

“What the hell man!?” Shitty asked as soon as he saw the other man. “You throw a fundraiser for the freaking Home Ec department but you never once have thrown a fundraiser for the speech and debate team! I am so upset. I thought we were friends.”

“Hey, you have never been accused of being able to beat me in a hockey match.” Jack replied, sitting down in his desk chair, looking up at Shitty. Shitty threw the flyer at him.

“So if I want to raise money for the Speech and Debate team, I have to get the students to get your competitive fire kindled?”

Jack smiled wide at that, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head.

“Apparently.” He picked up the flyer and looked at it. He had already spoken with the principal about his idea and she was all for it. George was a sucker for interdepartmental competitions. The flyer was simple, it advertised a pick-up game of shinny. It had a rolling pin and a hockey puck in a face-off circle with the slogan: Puck and Pastries face off. The captains were going to be Jack Zimmermann versus Eric Bittle. Teachers had to pay to play and students had to pay to watch, all funds going to the Home Economics department to help them buy supplies and ingredients, since it was still a fairly new class offered at Samwell.

“I hope Bittle doesn’t care that I signed him up to be a captain.” Jack thought aloud, standing to hang the flyer on his wall. It was one of the few things that decorated his class, and it stood out against the bland brown and tan walls. Good, students would notice it for sure.

“Wait a second, Zimmermann.” Shitty started, coming up next to him to admire the newly decorated wall. “Bitty doesn’t know about this?”

Jack looked at the other man for a moment, shocked that Bittle had already earned a nickname.

“No, I thought it would be a cool surprise.” Shitty patted him on the back and laughed.

“Only you would think playing hockey is a cool surprise, you hockey robot!” Shitty waved goodbye, as kids began filing into their seats for home room. He still had students of his own to take care of after all.

Jack noticed many of the students staring at the wall and then back to Jack. One of the students, Mandy, had the courage to ask about it.

“2 weeks from now Eric Bittle and I will be doing a fundraiser to help the Home Economics department get supplies and ingredients. Tickets will be $1 and all the money will go to help Mr. Bittle set up his classroom properly. I’m sure the Home Ec. classes will also be making snacks and have a bake sale where you can also purchase some food. We figured it would be a good way to get the students excited for hockey season, as well as get some money into a department that’s still really new and needs some help. Plus, you guys are all so curious about who would win in a hockey match, and now we will have an answer.”

The students began to chatter excitedly, asking about how they could get tickets. Jack told them he was still working on the details but his friends Mr. Knight, Ms. Duan, and obviously Mr. Bittle would be selling the tickets during lunch periods the week before. That’s when he heard someone running down the hallway. Before he had a chance to look out to see who it was he was greeted by a very loud “JACK ZIMMERMANN!” and winced when he realized it was Eric Bittle calling out to him. He excused himself and felt his anxiety rising as he stepped out into the hallway.

He was surprised to see a very happy Eric Bittle, who seemed to have a few tears rolling down his cheeks. His face was flushed and he was smiling, holding one of the several flyers that Jack had not-so-inconspicuously left on his desk.

“Mr. Zimmermann, what is this!?” Bittle asked, laughing as he waved the flyer around excitedly, his accent much thicker. His excitement was contagious and Jack couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s a piece of paper.” Jack chirped. He couldn’t help it. He grew up with hockey and they chirped each other all the time. It was a habit.

“I can see that, but I’m askin’ about what’s written on it. Is that true? Are ya holding a fundraiser for the Home Economics department?” Bittle’s voice was suddenly quieter, reverent, as if he didn’t quite believe someone could do something so nice for him.

Jack nodded, offering a fist.

“Welcome to Samwell. See you on the ice, eh?” he said when Eric returned his fist bump. He walked back into his classroom and the students scattered back into their seats.

 

After the morning, Jack’s day had been filled with excitement. Quite honestly, Samwell High school needed some excitement sometimes. His students were constantly asking him about the fundraiser, happy to support their new favorite teacher as well as their favorite hockey team. 

He took his lunch in the teacher’s lounge again, thinking about who could be on his team. The teams were going to be three on three, staff only, with enough to switch out when they were tired. That’s what he had texted to Bittle between classes, at least.

Shitty, Ransom (or as the kids called him Mr. O), and Holster (or Mr. H) walked in then. Ransom and Holster were both giants and both PE teachers, though Ransom also taught some of the Biology classes when he could. The two were practically inseparable, and Jack was hoping they were good at hockey. Holster was on him quickly, asking about who was going to be on his team. Apparently all three wanted in on his team and were willing to pay the fine. Jack already had half his team, without even trying. Bittle walked into the teacher’s lounge looking forlorn.

“Jack, can I talk to you?” He whispered when he caught Jack’s eye. Jack nodded, as a ‘please excuse me fellas’ towards the others and stepped out with Bittle.

He looked nervous, scared even, and refused to look Jack in the eyes.

“What is it Bittle?” Jack asked, trying to quell the anxious feeling rising in his chest.

Eric handed Jack his phone and told him to scroll through all of it. What Jack saw shocked him, mostly. He had been around high school students enough to know this gossip was common, but usually not like this. 

It looked like one of those Twitter or Facebook things his students were always trying to show him, but Jack wasn’t sure which one. It was a picture of the two of them from their morning fist bump with the caption:  _ “Have you ever seen such an obvious mutual crush? #icancutthesexualtensionwithaknife #jackhearteyeszimmermann #zimbits.” _ He continued scrolling, thinking the zimbits thing was clever, even if he wasn’t sure he agreed with it. There were a few pictures from yesterday, one of them shaking hands, one of Jack leaning against the doorframe of the home ec room, one during the Bittle/Zimmermann awkward silence after being handed the pie. The comments were all similar:  _ ‘I’ve never seen him smile like that, unless there’s hockey involved. #hockeyrobot’, ‘Jack is all about that #bittybooty’, ‘Mr.Z ended class early to get bf’s pie #samwellscutestcouple #getitmrz’, ‘Mr. Bittle is lucky. Mr. Z is sooo hot #metoobittle #thoseblueeyes #datasstho’.  _ Jack couldn’t help but laugh at the last one. He was causing more excitement than he meant to that’s for sure.

He looked back at the shorter man in front of him, and immediately felt sorry. He handed Eric his phone.

“Bittle, I should explain something. The students are pretty good at coming up with rumors and talking about the teachers. It’s honestly why I stay off of...what’s it called... social media? Anyways, the kids know I’m not exactly straight and I’m sorry to put you in that situation. They don’t mean anything by it and it will blow over eventually.”

Eric stared at him as though not believing what Jack had just told him. He was quiet for a moment. Jack felt uncomfortable suddenly. Why didn’t he think before he talked? Bittle was southern and probably pretty close-minded. 

“I’m not straight either, Mr. Zimmermann” Instantly, Jack wanted to hit himself. What had Shitty always lectured him about? Don’t make assumptions about people, and here he was discussing sexuality with a not-so-straight-southern-gentleman.

“Bittle, I’m not trying to hit on you, I just wanted to do something nice to welcome you to Samwell. I promise, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable okay?”

Eric nodded, seeming to accept that as truth. Jack knew he wasn’t good at expressing his emotions, but he hoped that if he had a crush on one Mr. Bittle, Eric would at least know about it.

“Let’s just let the kids talk alright? I promise it will die off eventually if you ignore it and it’s not a big deal. We can still be civil to each other right?”

“Sure.” Eric seemed a little distant, as if that wasn’t exactly the answer he wanted. Jack watched him silently, unsure how to alleviate the situation. Suddenly, Bittle was beaming at him. Jack took a step back, overwhelmed by the intensity of it.

“You’re on Jack. I get dibs on George and Chow, got it? You’re goin’ down.”

 

\------------------------  _X_  ------------------------

 

The next few weeks were a blur of motion. Jack felt that he was constantly busy with planning a fundraiser, practice, and his actual teaching duties. It was chaotic, but Jack couldn’t remember the last time he got this involved with the school. He and Bittle had actually become closer, and were spending a lot of time together planning this fundraiser and scheduling practices for each team. He spent the morning on the ice, reflecting on the past few weeks. He had made a new friend/rival (if you could even call Bittle a rival), gotten the school interested in their extracurriculars, and was helping to raise money in a department where there was desperate need. He felt good about himself and he hadn’t felt this good in a while.

He was deep in thought, thinking about the practice he wanted the hockey team to do tonight. He didn’t notice a second pair of skates coming out to join him. It wasn’t until the other person touched his shoulder that he realized there was anyone there at all. He jumped a little, surprised. Bittle’s big brown eyes were looking up at him, concerned.

“Jack I called to you like four times. Are you okay?” 

Jack nodded. 

“Hockey season is going to start soon. Our first home game is Saturday and I want to make sure our guys are ready for it.”

Bittle skated next to him then, easily keeping up with the pace that Jack had set. Jack watched him out of the corner of his eye. The two skated in silence for a while, slowly picking up the pace and letting their muscles get used to the workout. Bittle began to skate faster and Jack watched. Bittle began to do little tricks, some spin moves that he made look easy. When Bittle had finished, he was panting and sweaty. Jack tossed him a water bottle and raised an eyebrow, silently questioning about what he had just seen.

“I used to be a figure skater too.” Bittle shrugged. “I switched to hockey in high school in hopes that it would make my dad happier.” Jack nodded because he understood that feeling. Ever since his overdose, he had that same feeling that his parents had lost respect for him.

They packed up their things, getting ready for the day ahead of them. By the end of the day, they would know who the better hockey player was, although at this point it didn’t matter. By the time Jack had showered and dressed, Bittle had already gone.

Jack walked into his classroom to find that Eric had made an unexpected visit. On one of his chalkboards, the one right in the middle of course, Bittle had written: ‘PIES > PUCKS’ and in small letters underneath ‘your move Zimmermann-B.’ Bittle had officially started a war, one that Jack was sure he’d win. 

Without erasing anything, Jack grabbed a few jars out of his desk and ran down the hall to see if Bittle was in his classroom. He wasn’t, probably getting his morning coffee Jack assumed. Jack was going to save this prank for Shitty, but he felt that Eric had warranted a counter strike. Jack emptied the jars on Bitty’s desk and carefully with his fingers spread the small dots from the hole punch to spell out ‘BITTLES BE TRIPPIN’ (he had spoken to enough high schoolers to know what that meant) and underneath he put a post-it reading two words: GAME ON. Jack was proud of his accomplishment and quickly ran back into his class before Bittle could come back and catch Jack in the act.

The day continued on normally after that, except Jack refused to erase the message Bittle had written. The students got a kick out of it anyways and it reminded them of the event tonight at the lake behind the school. Jack was getting pumped and he could tell Eric was excited about it too.

During his lunch break, he walked down to the Home Economics room, smelling the wonderful smells before he was even close to the room. The students were making a multitude of snacks for the game tonight and would be selling them for fifty cents a piece. There were mountains of goodies: brownies, pies, cookies, and even a few candies. Jack picked up a smaller candy and popped one into his mouth.

“Uh-huh Mr. Zimmermann, I saw that. You owe me fifty cents.” Jack rolled his eyes but dug around in his pockets anyways for two quarters. He took notice that ‘BITTLES BE TRIPPIN’ was still written across Eric’s desk and he smiled a little.

“Prepared to get your butt kicked tonight, eh, Bittle?” Jack asked. He heard a few of the students snicker and knew this was going up on those social media sites as they spoke.

“You wish! Chowder and George are phenomenal and I have Tater, Dex, and Nurse. There’s no way you’ll win.”

Jack agreed that was a pretty formidable team, but Jack had Ransom, Holster, Shitty, Parse, and the philosophy teacher Johnson, who accepted after going on a strange rant about how he was only being asked because the author needed equal teams to help move the plot along.

“Bittle, what are those?” Jack asked, after looking down at Eric’s hands.

“Mini-pies. Me and my moo-maw make ‘em all the time and I’ll have you know that these pies have won awards back home.” Jack had stopped listening after that, Bittle was beginning to rant and Jack was more interested in watching Bittle talk than what he was actually saying. Jack was slowly realizing that he liked Bittle as more than a coworker or a friend and that maybe their students had picked up on something that Jack hadn’t even seen at first. Kids were intuitive that way.

“Is that okay?” Eric asked, and Jack only realized that he had finished talking after he had been staring at him for about a minute. Jack blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sorry Bittle, I wasn’t listening.” he admitted, embarrassed that he had been caught.

“I asked if I could post a picture of us on Twitter to promote the game tonight.”

Jack nodded and Bittle called one of his students forward to take a picture of them together. Jack wrapped his arm around Eric’s shoulders and Bittle wrapped his own around his waist. To anyone on the outside, it looked completely platonic, but Jack was panicking on the inside. He felt like one of his students, crushing hard on the teacher, knowing it was a losing battle but unable to help it anyways. The picture was posted with the caption:  _ ‘He’s chirping me hard, but we’ll see who’s chirping whom once he looks at the final score tonight. See you there! #PIES>PUCKS #fundraiser’. _

Jack took the opportunity to have Bittle show him some of the twitters the students were posting about them. Jack read through some of them, noticing that #zimbits was becoming popular among the students. Jack had to admit he was a little proud of this, despite the implications of the hashtag (Bittle had explained this to him before, but he still wasn’t sure he understood. Shouldn’t it just be called a pound sign?). He was surprised by the amount of candid pictures the students were able to take. They took a couple of them talking at lunch or in the Home Economics classroom, or even just around the school in general. Jack had to admit that he wasn’t hiding his affections very well. He definitely earned the “heart eyes Zimmermann” tag that was also becoming popular among the students.

He looked his fill and handed Bittle his phone back. Bittle finished up his class, telling the students to make sure they put their dishes in the drying racks and to come to the game tonight. Jack watched them leave, waiting for Eric to come to lunch with him for a few minutes so they could discuss the game tonight. Bittle turned to him then.

“I have a proposition for you, Jack.” Those brown eyes were intense and it was all Jack could do to maintain eye contact.

 

\------------------------  _X_  ------------------------

 

Jack had a hard time concentrating throughout the rest of the day. Bittle did this on purpose so that Jack’s team would lose, he was sure of it. Well he wasn’t going to go easy on Bittle’s team, that’s for sure.

He was getting prepped for the game, using his full hour to warm up and do some stretching. He was dressed in one of his old college jerseys, the powder blue and white feeling like home. Bittle came out onto the ice wearing an old jersey from his college days as well. His was red and white with a bright white 15 right in the center of his back and it looked damn good on him. Bittle gave him a once over before starting his own warm-up routine. They weren’t wearing pads, but they didn’t really need to. This would be a no-checking game for the safety of the teachers who had never really played hockey before.

Jack was fully warmed up by the time the other teachers arrived. The lake was ready, two goals on the edges of the lake and a makeshift face-off circle haphazardly drawn in spray paint. The ref (one of the lovely students that was neutral to both Jack and Bitty) blew her whistle and Johnson and Chowder took their places in the goal. The game was starting and Jack was surprised by the turnout. Students came, friends of students came, and even family came to support these two colliding activities. 

Bittle and Jack were the first two to face off in the circle. The crowd was going wild and Jack’s competitive side was making an appearance.

“Remember my proposition?” Bittle asked, raising an eyebrow, challenging.

“If you are asking me to throw the game Bittle, I will do no such thing.” Jack replied, smirking. Bittle nodded.

“I was hoping that would be your answer.”

The puck was dropped and Jack won the face-off. He passed the puck to Shitty and the two were off down the lake. Bittle was fast and was in front of Shitty in an incredibly short amount of time. George was defending against Jack and he was okay with that. If he had to defend against Eric, he would have not been able to control himself.

The game progressed quickly, each team earning a shot on goal within minutes. Thankfully, both Johnson and Chowder were fairly good at this and both shots were deflected easily. Towards the end of the first period, Ransom passed a puck towards Jack who sent it straight into the five-hole before Chowder could even react. The crowd went wild as Jack performed a fist-pump “celly” and Shitty skated over to hug him.

Bittle responded by winning the face-off and using his speed for a breakaway. He sent a quick wrist shot to Johnson, glove-side, and scored within 10 seconds of Jack’s goal. Looks like Bitty wasn’t going to throw the game either. He skated over to Jack and yelled “Your move Zimmermann!” before skating back to his team for a celebratory group hug.

The first period ended in a tie 1-1 and although this was a pick-up game of shinny on the lake behind the school, both Bitty and Jack were getting competitive. Jack had to adjust himself more than once. During the period intermissions, they had games that the students voted on. The first was a game of bean-bag toss, where the winner would receive a free ticket to prom.

Afterwards the teams took to the ice again. The second period was uneventful. Neither team scored, though both teams had several shots on goal.

The second intermission was a lottery where the students would get to pie the teachers playing in the face. Jack got pied by a girl who was very shy and very short. He actually had to get down on his knees so she could reach his face. After everyone had been pied, they took pictures with the students and they each got a free Samwell High School t-shirt.

The game continued, still tied, in the third period. The period started off with Jack winning the face-off. They had decided to pull Johnson in the third period and put Ransom and Holster on the ice with Jack. Within minutes, Holster had tipped a beautiful goal in off a rebound. The game was building and it looked like Jack’s team was going to win 2-1. In the last few minutes, Bittle had another shot at a goal. Jack was on him quickly this time and was ready to defend anything Bittle was going to throw at them. Bittle faked to the left and shot quickly to the right, fooling both Jack and Johnson and scoring his second goal of the evening.

“There you go, 15.” Jack whispered, impressed that Bittle was able to get passed him seemingly effortlessly. With the game tied 2-2 in the third period they went straight into a shoot-out, hoping to not keep the families here past dinner time.

Jack scored against Chowder easily, and Bittle scored for his third time that evening. Shitty missed his shot, but George sent a beautiful shot flying past Johnson’s glove. It was down to the final goal and Holster was up. He tried to pull a fast one on Chowder, by sending him a backhanded wrist shot, but Chowder blocked it as if he had been playing hockey all his life.

With that, the game was won and Jack had to admit defeat. Although disappointed, he wasn’t upset for long. Jack remembered what Bittle had asked him during their lunch earlier that day.

“ _ I have a proposition for you, Jack. If you win tonight, you can take me on our first date anywhere you would like. If I win tonight, I get to choose the first date.” _

_ Jack had sat dumbfounded. He wasn’t even aware that Bittle had wanted to date him.  _

_ “Do I still get to pay, regardless of who wins?” He asked, because it was the only question that would come to him as his brain still processed that information. _

_ Bittle smiled coyly, and playfully swatted at Jack’s chest. _

_ “No, sir! If I am the one choosing the date, I get to pay you hear me!?” _

_ “Isn’t this a win for everyone regardless of the score of the game?” Jack asked, a smile tugging on his lips. _

_ “Yes. Now get out of here, I don’t want you getting any ideas here at school.” _

 

Jack was brought back to the present. He was eager to get moving forward with his post-game reward. He saw Eric smiling at him across the pond and knew they were thinking about the first date, that Bitty would be planning. He skated over towards the smaller man and looked down at him.

“Congrats, Bitty.” He said before proudly and confidently placing his lips against the slightly chapped ones of the blonde next to him. It was quick and chaste, but the students saw it anyways and began whooping and cheering. Bittle blushed furiously, mumbling about how he would see Jack tomorrow for their date. Eric skated away quickly and Jack wondered if he could bring him in for speed training to help the team. To help the team, certainly not watch any part of Bittle’s body doing any sort of strenuous activities. He was definitely going to enjoy tomorrow, he thought as he skated away towards the locker rooms.


End file.
